


It's a date

by Quicksilvermaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Fake Dating, Fluff, Fun, Headcanon, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 07:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid
Summary: So it's eighth year. McGonagall decides what's needed is a 'Society and Relationship Development' teacher. Everyone else has no clue what this means. But it's all about learning to be respectful, form friendships, breakdown barriers and discrimination and what not.Harry's all for it … right up to the point where she assigns them a dating assignment and the 'randomly' assigns him Draco Malfoy as a partner.





	It's a date

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a drabble than a fic. I'm keeping a bunch of placeholder stories here to expand on later, so I don't lose them on tumblr.
> 
> Jump over and say hi and hound me to write more if you like haha: [@quicksilvermaid](http://quicksilvermaid.tumblr.com)

He doesn't realise how much he's complaining about it until Hermione says in exasperation, 'Yes, Harry, we understand, you don't want to do the assignment with Malfoy. But it's not like you actually have to date him. You just have to find out what he likes and create a date that would show you're a respectful partner.'  
'Hermione, it's Malfoy,' Ron said with a grimace. 'He probably likes hanging around in the dark scaring children.'

Harry starts to think about all the things he knows about Malfoy. Maybe he can get the assignment done without even talking to the git. He starts to make a list   
\- how he likes Quidditch, that's obvious.   
\- how he likes to study one subject at a time with intense concentration and if someone interrupts him he loses his focus completely  
\- how he reads for pleasure sometimes … or at least the books he has are nothing Harry's ever seen on the booklist  
\- how he prefers to eat his meals by grouping similar textures together rather than just jumbling everything up on his fork  
\- how he gives treats to his Eagle owl every time she visits and is often in the owlery with her  
\- how he prefers summer to winter because he's always too cold in winter

He's making good progress when Ron looks over his shoulder and says, 'Bloody hell, mate. The assignment was to fake date the bloke, not to bloody move in with him and have his babies.'

Harry flushes and moves his parchment away. But he's got an idea. He can get it over and done with and then focus on more important things, like the pile of homework that's almost taller than he is now.

So he owls Malfoy. A date, a time and a place … and one of those rubbish adventure books he's always reading. Malfoy looks surprised as he absentmindedly scratches his owl, while she nibbles on his ear. For a moment he smiles, but then he catches himself and looks across at the Gryffindor table with a glare on his face.

Harry almost doesn't think he'll show up when the time comes, but he sees Malfoy striding across the Quidditch pitch towards him, and he's wearing his flying leathers, his broom swung over one shoulder. He nods when he arrives and Harry can't resist asking, 'How am I doing so far?' with a smirk, because try as he might, Malfoy can't hide the anticipation in his step.  
Malfoy sniffs. 'Everyone knows I like Quidditch, Potter. My mother could be taking me on this date.' 

Harry just shrugs and holds out the snitch. 'Seeker's game?'  
Malfoy attempts a sigh that doesn't do anything to cover the fact that he's already swinging on to his broom and kicking into the air.

They race and chase, sweeping and diving across the pitch, both of them nearly catching the snitch more than once. Harry doesn't go easy on him. It might be a date, but it's a fake one, and besides, Malfoy would hate knowing Harry had let him win - he knows the other boy that well.

So it's surprising to both of them when Malfoy swoops up from under Harry, catching the snitch right in front of him. Grey eyes flash to his, but clearly Harry's look of shock is enough to reassure him, because Malfoy's face breaks into a wide, happy grin … and Harry can't help grinning back.

They descend to the pitch but Harry tells Malfoy to stay on his broom, while he accio's a basket to himself.

The hilltop they fly to is out of sight of the school and has a brilliant view of the like. He knows Malfoy has been tenser this year, with the eyes of the whole school on him, and in the relative solitude, he sees the other boy relax. They both shed their outer robes and soak up the late autumn sun.

Malfoy looks surprised at the picnic Harry lays out. They're his favourite foods, every one of them, but all Malfoy does is raise and eyebrow and say, 'You hate lemon tart.'  
Harry just shrugs, 'You don't.'

They eat slowly, not saying much, but each looking across at the other, brief, darting glances. This is the longest they've ever been alone. The longest they haven't had other eyes, other expectations on them. And Harry … finds it's not actually as bad as he'd thought it would be.

After the meal, they talk of little things - easy things - classes and homework and a funny story that someone told someone about the last Hogsmeade trip … and it's nice.

When they're packing up, and the sun's setting over the Lake, Harry asks him again, 'So, how'd I do.'

This time when Malfoy answers, there's a smirk on his lips, but it doesn't have the same edge it normally would. 'Yes, lovely Potter,' he says, sniffing in an exaggerated manner, 'You romanced me so beautifully, you made me cry.' Harry grins at him.  
'Git.'  
'Ponce.'  
'Scarhead.'  
'Ferret.'

Malfoy scowls at that one, 'You better watch it or I won't take you to the Muggle Cinema for the next date. We won't vist the Quidditch history museum AND, we won't go to Fortescues for ice cream on the way home, which means you won't get to try their new treacle tart flavour.'

Harry raises his hands in surrender, 'Okay, okay. I take it back. You're not nearly as ferrety as I thought you were anyway.'  
Malfoy sniffs, clearly deciding not to continue the argument. 'Next Saturday, then?' he asks.  
Harry thinks for a moment. He thinks about spending another day with Malfoy - about being in Muggle London and Wizarding London both, about being Malfoy and Potter and Harry and Draco.

He looks across with a smile, 'It's a date.'


End file.
